ich Morgan had given to Arthur,
was of such sovereign virtue that no wound, whether on nerve or joint,
provided it were treated with the piaster once a day, could fail to be
completely cured and healed within a week. They brought to the King the
piaster which gave Erec great relief. When they had bathed, dried, and
bound up his wounds, the King leads him and Enide into his own royal
tent, saying that he intends, out of love for Erec, to tarry in the
forest a full fortnight, until he be completely restored to health.
For this Erec thanks the King, saying: "Fair sire, my wounds are not so
painful that I should desire to abandon my journey. No one could detain
me; to-morrow, without delay, I shall wish to get off in the morning, as
soon as I see the dawn." At this the King shook his head and said: "This
is a great mistake for you not to remain with us. I know that you are
far from well. Stay here, and you will do the right thing. It will be
a great pity and cause for grief if you die in this forest. Fair gentle
friend, stay here now until you are quite yourself again." Erec replies:
"Enough of this. I have undertaken this journey, and shall not tarry in
any wise." The King hears that he would by no means stay for prayer of
his; so he says no more about it, and commands the supper to be prepared
at once and the tables to be spread. The servants go to make their
preparations. It was a Saturday night; so they ate fish and fruit, pike
and perch, salmon and trout, and then pears both raw and cooked. [131]
Soon after supper they ordered the beds to be made ready. The King, who
held Erec dear, had him laid in a bed alone; for he did not wish that
any one should lie with him who might touch his wounds. That night he
was well lodged. In another bed close by lay Enide with the Queen under
a cover of ermine, and they all slept in great repose until the day
broke next morning.

(Vv. 4281-4307.) Next day, as soon as it is dawn. Erec arises, dresses,
commands his horses to be saddled, and orders his arms to be brought to
him. The valets run and bring them to him. Again the King and all the
knights urge him to remain; but entreaty is of no avail, for he will not
stay for anything. Then you might have seen them all weep and show such
grief as if they already saw him dead. He puts on his arms, and Enide
arises. All the knights are sore distressed, for they think they will
never see them more. They follow them out from the tents, and send fo